


Something Resembling Love

by quellthefire



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, BDSM, Desperate, Face Slapping, Humiliation, Impact Play, M/M, Roleplay, Rough Sex, degredation, dubcon, fuck buddies, reference to teacher kink, references to daddy/incest kink, references to priest kink, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quellthefire/pseuds/quellthefire
Summary: "Peter didn’t want to crave Tony’s touch so badly that he’d have to hold back tears as the older man entered him, his face pressed down against the silky bed sheets, his cries of need muffled by the luxury linen.... But Tony had been very clear that first night he picked Peter up at the club all those months ago. 'I don’t do boyfriends or relationships. If you’re looking for the love of your life, I’m not him.'"Peter is so desperate for Tony that he'll do just about anything Tony asks.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 139





	Something Resembling Love

**Author's Note:**

> uhm, have I mentioned how much I love humiliation/degradation kink? This is an ode to the filth that gets me off.

He hated himself for it, the stretch of Tony’s cock, sliding in slick and thick. 

He didn’t want to need him this bad, didn’t want to be desperate for any fraction of love or intimacy.

Peter didn’t want to crave Tony’s touch so badly that he’d have to hold back tears as the older man entered him, his face pressed down against the silky bed sheets, his cries of need muffled by the luxury linen. 

He wanted Tony to hold him, to kiss him and hug him and tell him he loved him.

But Tony had been very clear that first night he picked Peter up at the club all those months ago. 

“I don’t do boyfriends or relationships. If you’re looking for the love of your life, I’m not him. But if you want to get fucked so good you’ll be feeling it for a week and desperate for more, come home with me tonight.”

Peter had practically dragged Tony out of the sweaty nightclub, so eager to see if this older man could deliver on his big boasts. 

He could, and then some. Peter had never come harder before, and was shaky and spent after that he passed out pretty much immediately.

Ever since then, when Tony texted, no matter what time of night or how early he had to be up the next morning, Peter would be at his beck and call. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that. But it was the best sex of his life, and he loved Tony, even if he could never admit that out loud. 

This wasn’t the same, he knew. 

It wasn’t love that Tony gave him at 3 am on a Wednesday night, mouth gagged and hands held tight behind his back, thick cock pounding into his too-slick ass until he screamed out his orgasm. 

It wasn’t love when Tony held him down and gagged Peter on his cock, spurting thick milky streams of hot cum down his throat. Him choking and sputtering on the fluid, letting it spill down his lips, Tony smearing it with his thumbs all over Peter’s face.

It certainly wasn’t love when Tony fucked him over and over, til his ass was sore and stretched, his hips aching from the strain of it, wet and messy and dripping with spit and warm cum, a little fuck toy for Tony’s personal amusement. His “dirty little cum dumpster”, Tony liked to call Peter, “just a cum slut begging for more.”

It shouldn’t have turned him on so much to be used like that.  
The humiliation shouldn’t have made him want it so hungrily.

It would have been one thing if they were dating, if there were cuddles and kisses and sweet sleepy breakfasts in the mornings after. But instead Tony would roll off his spent body, stride down the hall to take a shower on his own, and Peter would pass out, exhausted and wishing he could have more than this. 

He would slip out the door before dawn, that was their agreement. “Waking up with someone in your bed feels too much like a boyfriend,” Tony had told him. So he got dressed silently in the dark, body sticky with dried sweat and cum, and he biked back home in the early pre-dawn, ready to crawl into his own tiny bed and eke out whatever semblance of sleep he could catch before his 7 am alarm went off. 

It was humiliating, and exhausting, but Peter couldn’t say no whenever Tony wanted him. 

He couldn’t risk that being the last time Tony asked him. The sex without love was better than none at all from him. He couldn’t risk destroying whatever tenuous connection they had.

So he complied when Tony spat on his face and called him a dirty faggot, begged for more as the older man pretended to be his teacher, his dad, his older brother, his priest. He sobbed and cried out for more as Tony fucked him senseless, tied him to bed posts and left him there for what felt like hours, only to come back and suck him off until he was whimpering. 

The sharp sting of his slaps felt like love in that moment, the closest he’d ever get to Tony caressing his face tenderly. The riding crops and paddles and whips hurt like hell, but he’d take it all with a “Thank you Sir!” if it meant Tony kept touching him.

He’d do just about anything if it meant Tony kept touching him. Just about anything if it meant he could pretend a little longer that Tony loved him back.


End file.
